July goes out with a bang

walls collapse inward

port-a-loo effluence falls as rain


The sniper eats his breakfast

a fine dust of asbestos layers his tongue

his fingernails split by ricochet’d brick


Waking with his door like a coffin lid atop him

the room disappears into a falling sky

neighbours stagger blind like ghosts looking for shoes


And still the thunder resounds

though the dead now are all but dust

everything settles back to normal


Nothing but the memory remains the same,

there is before, after and now,

and the life that might have been.

◄ Kufr ul-Inkar Kufr ul-Kurh

Death, Sex and Violence ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message